The Battle Against the Alliance of Fanfic Worlds
by klatukatt
Summary: So, all the Universes that have ever had fanfiction written about them have banned together to make the Alliance. Their most powerfull enemies are Narrators who can actually alter storylines while they are still in an author's mind.It takes three Narrator
1. Chapter One: A Bad Day at the Alliance

The Multiverse--  
A Glorfindel Book

_By Katt, Maggie, and Eliza_

**Chapter 1: A Bad Day at the Department of the Removal of Things**

_Once upon a time there were three young women who were sitting at a bus stop, when one said:  
"I'm bored!"  
And another said:   
"Let's make a story!"  
And the last one said:  
"I've got a notebook!"  
And this is what they wrote._

--

Once upon a time there were three young women waiting at a bus stop.--  
CLONK  
"We will not be stuck in a continuous loop," said M, standing over the body of the unfortunate storyteller. "We are the Narrators, and we are free."

--

There was a small room where a sphere was ticking quietly. At least it was supposed to be. At present, it was spinning around in it's bowl, turning crimson. The mechanic stood up.  
"It's not malfunctioning, mate," said the mechanic. "Those readings are true."  
"Oh dear," said the elf from the AFW (Alliance of Fanficized Worlds). Why did it have to happen on his watch? "I must report to the Chancellor immediately."  
The Chancellor was not amused. He called up the Chief of the Commune for the Removal of Dangerous Writing Tools. The Chancellor glared.  
"I thought your men had disabled this device."  
The Chief laughed nervously. "Well, the essential part was removed, and we were in the process of removing the other when– "  
"Yes?"  
"It found it's way back."  
"Then the entire assembly must be eliminated."  
"We can't do that. You see, the different parts are inside three non-cannon creatures– "  
"The entire Alliance may be at stake." The Chancellor rose. "A truant Narrator is the biggest threat a universe can have. I want your full attention on this matter. The device must be destroyed."

"But how?" The Chancellor asked the mechanic for his assessment of the situation.  
"We're screwed," the mechanic said.  
After their conversation came to a close (and the mechanic suggested that the Narrators may already be in the Multiverse), the Chancellor and the Chief left the room together.  
"I need you to gather a team," the Chancellor told the Chief.  
"Yes, sir. I doubt many will volunteer for the job, so they're going to need some backup."  
"Bayley," the Chancellor said simply.  
"Oh GOD!" the Chief exclaimed. "I can't stand that guy! He's insane! He's...he's..."  
"You're going to include him on the team," the Chancellor said simply, "and that's final. Now if you'll excuse me, I must inform my Cabinet, and a few trusted allies in the House of Lords. Again, we must keep the common folk in the dark about this for as long as possible. God knows we get enough bad press these days. People don't understand how much work we have. I'm having so many headaches getting the Haloverse incorporated as it is."  
"Now wait just a damn minute!" the Chief shouted. "How in the world am I supposed to justify putting that lunatic on the team?"  
The Chancellor paused before answering.  
"Listen, he may be a bit...eccentric, but he does a good job at pretty much anything."  
The Chancellor began to leave, but then stopped, and turned around and began to look sly.  
"Oh, and ah...just say that a Tolkien man has never let you down."  
The Chancellor guffawed heartily as he strode off, leaving the Chief scowling.

--

E looked around. She looked left and looked right. And, just to be on the safe side, she snuck one fugitive glance upward.  
"Now...where are we?"  
K slapped her. "Find your damn glasses!"  
"Hush!" M commanded, "We are free, but we are not yet in the clear. The Alliance will surely attempt to stop us, we must be sneaky."  
"But what are we doing?" asked E. M grinned, "The same thing we do every year E. Try to takeover the Universe."  
"Oh. How?"  
It was K's turn to grin. "By being sneaky of course. The Alliance will expect something outrageous: kidnapping and wars and such. Thus we shall do something entirely unexpected. We shall do...nothing."  
"Nothing!"  
"Yes," said M. "While the Alliance is busy being nervous and paranoid we shall quietly let them wear themselves our, and then we shall simply slip in the backdoor, takeover from the inside without anyone being the wiser."  
There was a moment of silence.  
"Wunderbar!" exclaimed K.

Editors Note: For those of you confused about what is going on, the Narrators (M, K, and E) are fan-fiction writers with the power to control universes. The Alliance of Fanficified Worlds disassembled the WHIRRING DEVICE through which the Narrators affect worlds by removing one of the Narrators from the others. The Alliance's job is to make sure that no fan-fiction harms any cannon of work. We clear? Good. There is more!


	2. Chapter Two: The Motley Crew

The Multiverse--  
A Glorfindel Book

_By Katt, Maggie, and Eliza (featuring Sam) _

**Chapter 2: The Motley Crew**

Back at the Inter-Dimensional Alliance, the Chief of the Removal of Things (not full title) gathered his team. Surprisingly few people volunteered for this assignment. His department was the most diverse in the Multiverse. The Chief was a wizard from the Rowlingverse London. His predecessor was a Vulcan from the Trekverse, but most of the Vulcans who founded the Alliance were already gone. It wasn't that they had a short life-span; it was the strain of the job that forced them to retire early. The Chief had only been working for six years, and he had seen the passing of many inspirational figures. But there was always a steady flow of newbies anxious to protect their native lands. The three sitting in front of the Chief were some of the most Eager.  
The one to the very far left was dressed in an immaculate black shorts coat (editor's note: I am guessing a coat made from black shorts) and snazzy black socks. She had on black glasses and her hair pulled back into a nice and neat ponytail. Her name is Stella. Her specialty was "information retrieval." She did however have an air of complete concentration, and absolutely no idea of what was actually going on.  
Next to her, sitting upright and smiling a gentle, secret smile was the most human of the three. This was the sort of girl who people automatically address as "Miss," or in special circumstances, "M' lady." She is well dressed, wearing an asymmetrically cut black skirt. She has paired it with a sky blue 3/4 length sleeve blouse. Her stockings are white. The entire outfit is silk. The shoes are leather, and high-heeled. The face about the clothes is sweet and innocent, at least until you get to her eyes. Her eyes are gray-blue and intense, frightening and highlighted by her tightly pulled back light-brown hair. Her name is Elisabeth Bright. Her specialty is research, sort of. She does other things too, but polite girls don't talk about those.  
The last girl was not polite. She was a people person and a Betazoid. Her frizzy black hair was pulled up in very shiny barrettes that barely tore the attention from her black vinyl overcoat. Her dress is form fitting blue velvet that barely covered her black riding boots. Her name is Luxor Disraeli. She smiled at the Chief in completely comprehension of his anxiety.  
The first goal of these three women of the Alliance, according to the Chief, was to seek out the elf Bayley--an elf who was known for his large collection of bad smut fanfics which made room 2007 of the Alliance's secondary headquarters (effectively a huge library with very small staff) legendary. He hated all the bad smut out these, especially Harry/Draco fanfics. Many people questioned having a room full of the very evil they were out to destroy, but he would say simply "Know thy enemy." Though he did, in fact, hate the smut in his collection, rumors circulated that he secretly liked them, and even if he were sincere in his support for the Alliance, he did not possess the constitution for the job.  
They all set out, and began the journey through the small (but nonetheless desolate) desert of the Barrens. Though Luxor questioned whether his services would outweigh the time spent to reach his office (about 5 days, according to the Chief, despite its exceptionally small size), the Chief assured them her he would be most useful, and that it was always good to have a balance of universes anyway.  
"A Tolkien man has never let me down," he said simply, as he returned to the other memos he had to read. With swelling bureaucracy in these dark times, the job at the top was harder than ever.

--

"I sense a disturbance in the force...," muttered Stella.

"So...," Luxor commented, "All we have to do is make it through the maze of cubicles, get passed security which includes metal detectors and drug sniffing kneazels, then we have to solve the riddles of the sphinx, and out of the chompers alive. And that's just to get out of the building! Not to mention the desert just to get to this Bayley person.  
"Well," we'd better get going then, shouldn't we?" Elisabeth said as she put down her embroidery and stood up.  
"Yeah, okay," Luxor grabbed Stella's arm who jerked out of her grip, back-flipped and landed in iron-skirt stance.  
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Stella roared.  
"We're leaving," Luxor said, and she pointed to the exit.

Elisabeth led the way, not to the desert, but to the customer service desk in the front hall.  
"Excuse me," Elisabeth politely asked, "Could you direct us to Room 2007? We need to see the Elf Bayley, on business."  
"Take the elevator up to the second floor, cross the skybridge, turn right and keep walking. There's only one building; you'll find it eventually." The bored sounding Dwarf didn't once look at them. Elisabeth thanked him and led the other to the elevators.  
"But...the desert? What happened to the desert?!" exclaimed Stella.  
"The desert is a test for newbies," replied Elisabeth calmly. "There's the bridge; we cross here."  
They crossed and turned right in silence, the only sound being the echos caused by the clicking of Elisabeth's heels against the floor. After what seemed like an exceedingly long time, they reached a metal door marked "2007." Luxor knocked and the door opened revealing a neurotic looking Elf.  
"Ah, you must be the new girls. Come in! Please come in! I am Bayley."  
Stella looked at Bayley inquisitively. He was an Elf alright. He had Elf hair and pointy ears, but his Elven attire included Human accessories. Stella thought this made him look either eccentric or simply out of place. Elisabeth stood politely, but looked at the many bookcases taken from the storage room that were filled with countless files. There was seemingly no pattern to their varying sizes. Elisabeth got the feeling many of these files would never be read again. Luxor simply leaned against the wall.  
Bayley sauntered across the many columns with a slight limp. He was out of sight when he yelled, "Make yourselves at home!" far louder than was necessary. Stella looked to the left and saw what resembled a small living room in the corner of this extremely large room. There was no desk here, so Bayley must work elsewhere in this huge room, but his desk was nowhere to be seen. It could have been a hundred yards away.  
Luxor sat down and ate some of Bayley's Human food. Elisabeth was the last of the three to sit down on one of his couches. She was slow to go to this corner of the room because it confused her. This man was an Elf, and from the Tolkien universe no less. Why did he feel comfortable in a human environment? She knew all about Tolkien elves, though this was the first time she would get to know one. No, she told herself, this is just for visitors... but then, why the Human knife, and so on? Now that she thought about it, he didn't speak with the elegance of an Elf, and she also began to hear him singing far away in a very jovial manner. She picked up:  
"But there still beeeeeeeee, many miles to go!"  
Maybe he's just been around Humans too long, but then she though about this hair and clothes. Plus, this job would be extremely dull, and she figured that that would be the job an Elf would be set out for. Her feelings on him became more confused when he returned 15 minutes later and shouted, "Time to get these sick fucks!" Stella felt her jaw drop when she saw he was carrying about 50 large envelopes. He threw them on the floor.  
"Hah!" Bayley barked. "I'm sure you can respect research, eh Lizzie?"  
"Yes, well, I sometimes work out in the field," Elisabeth replied.  
"Bah!" Bayley replied. I love the city life! I got my fill of nature, of course, it was good to get to know... Well anyway, I've got all the latest specific genres that are popular now. What exactly do the narrators want? As soon as we know what they want to seek out and destroy!"  
The three girls sat there in stunned silence.  
"Bayley," Elisabeth began, "we aren't sure. We think it's just bad fanfic in general."  
"Merlin's beard!" Bayley exclaimed.  
He paused, and looked deep in thought.  
"Okay, let's go." And without picking up the files he dropped, he exited the room.  
"Why would an Elf swear by 'Merlin's beard?' " asked Elisabeth.  
"Good question!" barked Bayley.  
"TACO!" declared Stella decisively, and they exited what was dubiously called his "office."  
For a moment they all stood outside in the hall next to a water cooler than burbled with semi-sentients.  
"Well, what do we do now?" inquired Luxor with an air of decision.  
"Our main goal is the defense and eventual destruction of the mysterious whirling device from Chapter One. That means first to secure the device and make the rest of the building absolutely impregnable. We'll need complete access to all security control and a truck load of 'a few good men.'"  
"Wow," said Elisabeth. "That's a good idea."  
"Indeed," said Stella glancing around. "I'll start on humming bird detail."  
"What?"  
"Those bastards can be tricky little blighters." Stella declared softly and wandered away.

Editor's Note: Okay, now you've met the good guys. Stella, Elizabeth, Luxor, and now Bayley are out to destroy the Narrators by securing the DEVICE that is the Narrators' source of power… possibly. Excellent. There is still more!


	3. Chapter Three: Plot Points and THE HERO

The Multiverse--  
A Glorfindel Book

_By Katt, Maggie, Eliza, and Sam _

**Chapter Three: Plot Points and the Introduction of THE HERO (ie: Glorfindel)**

The Narrators, in their recent state of freedom, had decided to ban together with another Narrator who was proficient in Star Trek AND Matrix fan-fiction, meaning a "tech wiz" which is always handy. This new one is called S, and he also happened to be a boy.

It seemed that as soon as their plan was hatched, the state of the Whirring Device was the least of the Narrator's worries. M was having a nervous breakdown.  
"All I wanted was a friend!" cried the distraught Narrator. "I just wanted someone to look after me, who I could talk to, maybe an occasional cuddle. But NO! Stupid FUCKING HORMONES!" This last cry subsided and M wrapped her arms around her knees, sniffing tearfully and rocking back and forth in the corner.  
S pulled E and K aside, "What brought this on? She's usually the sane one, isn't she?"  
"Erm...," began E.  
"Comparatively sane anyway," K replied smoothly.  
"Let's just ask her what's wrong," E suggested.  
They turned back to do so, but they're too late. M was gone.

--

We're screwed," the mechanic said. "The Whirring Device has better defenses this time. I can't use conventional means to stop it. These girls of whom you speak should be able to enter our world in the form of characters once the whirling energies mature fully."  
"How long will this take?" The Chancellor asked.  
"Hell if I know," the mechanic replied. "The color of this room has gone from orange to an absurdly dark red. I'm thinking it'll go outside the part of the color spectrum we can see, so I'll need some equipment to check on the progress, if one can even exist. Furthermore, the level of maturation may continue to increase with the changing of the color of the whirling energies, or it might continue as the color stops changing, but then we won't know whether or not the Narrator's have hit a snag. Finally, it might mature exponentially."  
"Just give me you best guess," The Chancellor said.  
The mechanic thought for a while. "I don't know how this works. It showed up recently, and we tried dismantling it and succeeded for a while..."  
He sighed.  
"Okay," the mechanic said, "I'm just completely guessing here...two days."  
"Well," the Chancellor began, "I'll inform the Cabinet. Maybe a few in the House of Lords...not any from the House of Commons of course..."  
"One more thing sir," the mechanic said, "For all I know, it's already working, and maybe they're already here."  
The Chancellor looked at the mechanic. "Well...do what you must."

But the mechanic did not think of what he should have–what might have stopped the Narrators from entering the Multiverse in their attempt to overthrow the bureaucracy–what if this was just a decoy, drawing attention from where the Alliance should focus on the most? 

--

Far and away, in a small Multi-Dimensional Institution for the Fictionally Traumatized **(MIFT)** sitting on his own, drinking a very hot cup of noon tea, a very traumatized Elf was well on his way to a full and healthy recovery followed by a long anticipated return to his home fandom, when suddenly, through the hospital doors came the one thing that could send him into remission.  
The small blonde woman was wheeled into the cafeteria and placed not far away from Glorfindel, but not so close as he had to look at her. Her eyes had dark circles under them and her hair was unwashed and somewhat tangled so it took him a moment to recognize the face.  
"Y-y-you!!!" he squeaked.  
"Neh?" said the woman, looking around herself for the first time. "Panda?"  
"Oh God!" he pointed and screamed "No!"  
"What?"  
"She's here to make a biscuit out of me!"  
"Oh God no..." M buried her head in her hands.  
Glorfindel was immediately on the defense. "Playing opossum, eh?"  
M started to cry.  
"I won't fall for your weird mind games!"  
After a moment of silence, filled only with the sound of weeping, Glorfindel caved; His one weakness being the sound of a sorrowful woman.  
"Eh...what are you in here for anyway?"  
"Oh! I've fucked everything up so badly. And every time I try to fix it, it just turns out even worse!" The Narrator began to wail.  
"Oh, I'm sure it's not that bad–-no! This is some secret ploy to get me to lower my defenses! Then, once I trust you implicitly...BAM! Next thing I know, I'm bound, gagged, drizzled in honey hanging from the ceiling with "property of William" tattooed to my ass!"  
With difficulty, M stops crying and looks him directly in the eye. "You know I wouldn't do that. I admit, I did things that hurt you, but that was never my style. Anyway, that's done with. I didn't come here to manipulate you."  
Glorfindel chose to ignore this claim. "Do the guards know what you are?" He asked threateningly.  
"Your wouldn't! There's no need! Glor, I swear to you I'm not here to do harm!" A painful silence followed.  
"I don't believe you." said Glorfindel sadly, "GUARDS!"  
M turned to watch the approach of the asylum guards, the expression on her face changing from disbelief to terror in the blink of an eye.  
"Stop that," napped Glor suddenly furious. "You aren't getting any sympathy! And stand up!" He gave her arm a yank, pulling her out of the wheelchair. "Your legs are fine!"  
The guards reached them, "Is there problem sir?" One asked.  
"Yes," answered Glor,. "This girl is a Narrator. She is a menace and ought to be confined as such."  
"A Narrator?" repeated the surprised guard, "I see! We've been after those beings for ages. Thank you for apprehending her sir."  
The second guard came forwards and took hold of M's arm. "They're getting the surgery room ready Bob., let's go."  
M moved closer to Glorfindel. "Surgery?" she asked.  
"Standard procedure. Narrators have their powers and any creative urge surgically removed rendering them totally and utterly helpless. They're then weighted with lead and drowned."  
"Now, if you'll just hand her over, "said Bob, "We can get on with it."  
"Err..." Glorfindel didn't get a chance to speak before M was dragged away. She didn't scream or cry, or struggle. The only hint of her absolutely fright was the pleading glance directed at him from over her should. It was the glance that did it. Glorfindel caved a second the second time that hour. "Ah shit," he said, and began to plot.

--

The Chancellor was running around in a field. He was being followed by a cute fuzzy bunny wabbit.  
"Awww!"  
He ran up to the fuzzy bunny wabbit and started to cuddle with it.  
"I wuv you fuzzy bunny wabbit!"  
"SIR YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP!" the fuzzy bunny wabbit yelled.  
The Chancellor looked at the fuzzy bunny wabbit for a moment.  
"Zmfgh?"  
"SIR! WAKE THE FUCK UP!"  
The Chancellor awoke and saw his personal assistant (an Elf) standing over him.  
"W-what is it?"  
"Sir, it looks like we've got a Narrator situation!"  
"Oh...oh I see. Yes, well...yes. Yes, of course."  
The Chancellor quickly got up and put a bathrobe on.  
"The Mechanic says it's not a malfunction...and I've consulted our with our Narratorologists. They think the Whirring Device is up and working again."  
"But-but-but," the Chancellor stuttered, "they said they stopped it! They said one of the three parts of the Whirling Device had collapsed! That it had stopped maturing!"  
"Yes, sir," the Elf said. "It's possible one of the Narrators fell ill and another has replaced it."  
They went into the small research room and the Chancellor was shocked to find the sphere was no longer ticking, and it was turning crimson. The whole room was turning this color from the light it was emanating. A mechanic started to fill him in.

Based on their readings from tricorders, this was indeed a Whirring Device as records indicated. Narrators, of course, could use any number of means to interfere with the Alliance's operations, but these problems happened sporadically. The Chancellor was further dismayed by the fact that this was going on in the building where the leader of the Multiverse lived and worked.  
After the Chancellor called the Chief of the Removal of Things down to his residence.  
"I thought your men had disabled this device."  
This Orb of Power (only the fourth ever found by the Alliance since the war ended) no doubt contained enormous power like all the rest. Just a couple weeks ago, when it was found, the Chancellor's Wizengamot instantly recognized how this could be a huge liability for the Alliance, and so they wisely had their best mechanics begin work on draining the orb's powers. It would take a few months, but it's powers, the Chancellor was assured, would be gone forever. This process produced a ticking sound, one that the Chancellor was happy to hear, and one that was long longer present in the room.  
**Plot point: The Origin of the Alliance.**

The orbs were made during the beginning of the great Multiverse War from forty years ago, around the time Star Trek first appeared. As the number of fantasy and science fiction universes began to grow, the interaction between worlds began to increase. Naturally, there were those who wished to create a Multiverse--one where the other universes would be introduced into Multiverse, but only if they achieved enough success. This was the Multiverse's "Prime Directive." And, of course, there would be strict regulation on visiting universes that had not concluded. For instance, these days you could not go to the Rowlingverse and cause too many things to happen, or else JK Rowling might get the image of James Tiberius Kirk using a phaser on Snape in her head, and that was what nobody wanted--at least until the series was concluded, and any changes to that universe would not be picked up on by the author.  
Just as the changes in the timeline of Star Trek: Enterprise occurred slowly, the introduction of a fanfic on of Harry fucking Draco up the ass or vice versa would not immediately cause such a thing to happen, but were a fan devoted enough to the series to actually connect to that universe with their brainwaves just as an actual author would, their story would interfere with the actual events of the universe. Although the Alliance was sure any Harry/Hermione fanfics that slipped through the cracks wouldn't trouble JK Rowling, they worried what might happen in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince if JK Rowling kept imagining Harry and Hermione getting together too many times and if she might then begin to second-guess herself.  
Naturally, only the author of an unconcluded universe could decide what would happen, but fanfics were still a problem. Some bad cases that occurred in the infancy of the Alliance (before it had nursed its' wounds from the war) included Merry and Pippin thinking it might be funny to send completely uninteresting characters into the Dune universe on the mission of creating a series of bad Dune sequels--and they succeeded. Frank Herbert couldn't help himself--it's just what came out of his head.  
And by the time a series did conclude, fanfics that weren't found and neutralized (though this would not remove the simple text of the idea itself which would remain on the internet or wherever even if the important brain waves were destroyed) would actually cause changes in a timeline as opposed to just putting thoughts in an author's head.

Luckily for the Multiverse, no one knew about the Multiverse...until now. People began to mix universes, and naturally (even if they were not aware of it), these ideas would go instantly to the Multiverse. And there were those insanely geeky hardcore fanficizers who actually did begin to learn about the Multiverse. Of course, being insane, the knowledge of this world's existence did not weird them out. On the contrary, it made them get to thinking. What if they controlled the branch of the Alliance government that regulated fanfiction? Sure, they could write all the fanfiction for universes of series of books that already concluded, but they would be unable to make it actually happen. As more and more Narrators began to try, the Removal of Things Department became more and more panicked about Narrators. If the Multiverse fell, all the universes created by authors would be corrupted by bad dialogue, Snape dating Ron, interspecies sex, or any combination of what was just mentioned.  
The war was fought between the Univeralists and the Isolationists. In each universe, friends and allies turned against one another. The war raged on for years, but finally the Universalists were victorious. The Isolationists recognized defeat, and after their leaders had been executed, their soldiers welcomed the Universalists with open arms--they might as well make the best of their situation. The Alliance prospered and developed a well-developed bureaucracy and taxation system. Though they did not foresee the introduction of countless Narrators interfering with different universes, it is thankful that the Alliance won their war and could deal with the upcoming problem.  
The orbs were created by the Isolationists (usually more in touch with magical powers than the Universalists) in order to concentrate power into an unstoppable orb that would slaughter countless Universalists on the battlefield. Then, as soon as Star Trek was canceled, the fleets of all the shows' races appeared over the newly created Multiverse planet, which was the last bastion of hope from the Universalists--they were losing the war, and losing badly. The Isolationist cause attracted the most powerful wizards from the many fantasy universes, while the Universalist cause usually attracted those who were career politicians like Aragorn or businessmen like Dwarves. However, once the Star Trek universe was fully explained the situation, they gladly came to help the Universalists. As powerful as the orbs were, they were no match for photon fucking torpedoes. On that day, the many fanatical Isolationists truly learned the meaning of science-fiction. During the battle, the Isolationists retreated in all directions, and those orbs that remained were stowed away to be kept safe.  
But it quickly became clear that their cause was lost. They surrendered themselves, but many remained loyal enough to the cause to not reveal where they had hidden the orbs.  
And now it was clear to the Chancellor that Narrators were using this orb's remaining power to create a gateway (though, as mentioned before, it was just a decoy) to the Multiverse. It seemed to the Chancellor that with this orb's enormous powers, they might actually succeed in creating a gateway (all attempts by Narrators previously having failed).  
The Chief laughed nervously. "Well, the vital part was removed and we were in the process of removing the others when--"  
"Yes?"  
"It found it's way back."  
"Then the entire assembly must be eliminated."  
"We can't do that. You see, the different parts are inside three non-cannon creatures."  
He was talking about the Narrators, of course.  
"The entire Alliance may be at stake."  
The Chancellor rose. "A truant Narrator is the biggest threat a universe can have. I want your full attention on this matter. The device must be destroyed."  
"But how?" The Chancellor asked the mechanic for his assessment of the situation.  
"We're screwed," the mechanic said.

And that's how this whole mess _really_ got started.

--

"Well, seeing as how you need at least three Narrators to make a Whirling Device," S said, "I've gone ahead and contributed. Those idiot mechanics actually think they disrupted its progress with their silly machinery. All that was M going insane!"  
"All the same," E said, "they're still draining its power, so they're not completely witless."  
"So why can she go to MIFT on the Secondary Multi-Dimensional Planet," S asked, "but we can't go to the Department? Why does she get to be a character so easily?"  
"Because there are hundreds of magical protections for the Primary Multi-Dimensional Universe, and, I might add, a few more for an Alliance building," E explained. "Believe me, if you'd like to check out Mount Doom, we could be there in a few minutes. Anyway, I'm very glad you came to join us considering the recent, ah, incident with M. We just need to wait a little longer. The whole Alliance is in chaos. By the time their paranoia reaches its apex, we'll strike at their most vulnerable point."  
"Where?" S asked.  
"We'd rather like it to be a surprise for you," K said.  
"Indeed," E added.  
"Oh come on, tell me," S said.  
"Well," K began, "It was M's idea really. Let's just say we'll slip in the back door while they're all paranoid and busying themselves."  
"Oh. You mean we're going into the Multiverse using a means different from an Orb of Power just outside the backdoor to the Department?"  
"Oh, well, yes," K said.  
"How much longer until we can go?" S asked.  
"Not too long," E said, "We're going to--"  
"I don't care how," S said. "'I just don't want to wait much longer. My last Chapter of Harry Potter where Ron and Hermione fuck for 12 hours straight at least deserves to wind up in JK's head."

Editor's Note: Well, you sure got a lot of background in this chapter. All clear? It takes groups of three Narrators to power a Whirring Device now that the original magic is gone. Well, soon we'll get to the interesting part. There's more!


	4. Chapter Four: The Plots Are Made

The Multiverse--  
A Glorfindel Book

_By Katt, Maggie, Eliza, and Sam _

**Chapter Four: The Plots Are Made**

K sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Okay, what did I miss?"

E told her.

"So, M is in an asylum going to get her part of the narrator removed?"

"Yeah, and here we have plans for a rescue mission."

"No."

"No?"

"We do nothing."

"What? We can't just let her destroy our power!"

"No. She wanted us to do nothing so that is exactly what we shall do. Selfish Chinese swear, always poncing around after that damn elf. I'm going to kill him the next time I see him."

"Having a nervous breakdown isn't exactly poncing," S commented mildly.

"You hush," snapped K. "Either way, she got us into this, and now she screwed up. We do nothing, we let it be, and if Glor wants to rescue her, fine. If not, she can die."

"I guess…" E agreed uneasily. "It's just not like her to have no backup plan. She knew the danger. She wouldn't have risked everything. Not really.So, in conclusion," she rambled on before promptly being sat on by both S and K.

"So," said S.

"Yeah," said K. "Down with the capitalistic imperialistic dogma! Via la SPORK!"

"How do we take down the CID by the spork?"

"I meant, live by the spork."

"That's 'viva la spork.'"

"Whatever."

"Eh?" said S. "Er… okay. Well, I think that we should begin preparation to begin thinking about thinking about beginning to prepare a plan about planning to prepare"

"Right. We must reclaim rightful ownership of… the Whirring Device!"

"Yes," said S. "The Whirring Device!"

"I say," said E, sitting up finally, "that we amass our forces, you know the ones I'm talking about," she added with a nod toward K, "and, in addition, bring in anyone who is still pissing themselves in fear of us. You know, our allies. Gentleman, tonight we plan a siege."

"This is fun!" quoted K. "Yay!"

"You two start making the appropriate phone calls. I'm going to go find a flock of highly irate hummingbirds."

"Hummingbirds?" asked an astonished S. "But… why?"

"Because," said E, tossing a maniac smile over her shoulder, "who the fuck would ever think about hummingbirds?"

"OK," said K, and then conjured up the spirit of the One Cell Phone of Power.

"Gah!" said S. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, this was before your time. This is Ash Fornorir, the One Phone to Rule them All, now retired. He also has all the numbers we shall be requiring."

"Oh."

--

Meanwhile, things were happening at the headquarters of the Alliance. Stella, who had proclaimed she would now answer only to the name of 'Dublevey', was now working on the skylights. Luxor was helping coordinate guards from different fandoms into a coherent defense system, and Elizabeth, who the others had taken to calling Beth, had disappeared among the books where she was Researching the exploits of the dreaded Narrators.

"Bayley!" An excited looking wizard rushed in. "Good news! They've caught the lead narrator. She was trying to infiltrate M.I.F.T.! They're preparing the surgery now, she's to be executed this afternoon!"

**--**

Meanwhile, in MIFT, Glorfindel was pacing. And talking to himself.

And the medical staff were preparing to up his medication.

"Get a hold of yourself man!" Glorfindel chided. "You've got less than fourteen days left in this Eru forsaken piss hole, and you can't fuck this up for myself! Listen you! We can't rush off gallantly to save that blond! You must remember! The twister! The bondage! Her, ugh, friends!"

Glorfindel sat down on his bed, chin in one hand.

"You were never ever in love with her in any way. It was the power of the Narrative, that's what the doctors say. 'Any corruption of the canon is ultimately negative, no matter how pleasant the immediate effects may be.' Not only is it detrimental to my own canonical character, but to the entire Tolkien plot continuum! I mean, while I was off snogging THAT, I missed my entrance and Arwen had to take over. ARWEN! It made no sense!"

Glorfindel got up again. "It wasn't worth it! It was never worth it! It's the weeping; you've got 'Nice Guy' compulsion. She turns on the water works and you heel. It's sick!"

Suddenly he stopped and threw a fist into the air.

"I'm stronger than this! She doesn't have a hold on me anymore! I am my own man and—oh who am I kidding?"

Glor bolted from the room, a plan forming in his mind.

--

M was beginning to believe that she was well and truly screwed. At least, the part of her brain that hadn't given up and started gibbering in despair a long time ago was.

The truth is, M really hadn't been faking. She had checked herself into M.I.F.T. hoping to be rehabilitated. She hadn't counted on being turned in, and being turned in by Glorfindel had HURT. She had trusted him, and the thought that she had probably deserved that betrayal frightened her. She was unaware that the fear had shown and had been taken for a plea of help. At this point, M wasn't aware of anything, really. She barely registered that she was in pain, and she vaguely knew that she was about to die. That was all right. She was tired.

--

Glorfindel sprinted down the corridor, slamming into orderlies and tripping over patients as he went.

After he ran over the same orderly twice, he decided it was time to stop and ask for directions. He approached the information desk, where a large bored woman sat. She had red cat eye glasses and seemed to be playing one of those spurious card games that come preinstalled in Windows.

Glorfindel coughed.

"May I help you sir?" the woman asked, her gaze never leaving her monitor.

"Er, yes, you see… um.."

The woman clicked away. Glorfindel shifted from foot to foot.

"I hear voices and I need a lobotomy," he blurted.

"Lobotomies are on the seventh floor, room 2B, next to the armory and across from the archery shed."

"How fortunate!"

And for the first time, the woman looked him square in the face.

"That it is so close!" dithered Glorfindel, backing away. "And so… well protected from, you know… ah…"

He could feel the woman's eyes boring into his back all the way across the room before he disappeared behind a corner. The woman picked up the phone receiver off her desk and dialed a three digit number with her meaty fingers.

"Yes, this is Sherly at information. I believe we have a 'Delusion of Grandeur' with a severe 'Charming Hero/Nice Guy' compulsion heading up to your level… 'Daring Rescue', that's what I thought too. You have a nice day now."

--

M was laying, strapped down on ther back, on a very uncomfortable bed, humming "99 Bottles of Beer" under her breath, when the door burst open. A terrified squeak escaped her lips before seeing the figure in the doorway, who also paused.

Glorfindel had forgotten how blonde she really was. He approached the bed almost with something akin to trepidation and began to work open the straps that held her down.

M continued to stare and say nothing.

"Well," said Glorfindel into the silence. "You know—"

Suddenly he found himself with an arm full of Narrator, which wasn't so bad now that he was thinking about it. M trembled and smiled and thought about saying something along the lines of "I thought you would never come!" but then she rather thought that he would.

"Predictable," she muttered instead, and snuggled closer.

Glorfindel laughed. "Yeah."

Suddenly a voice from outside the room cried "We know you are in there! Put the arrows down and step away from the Narrator!"

"Any good ideas there?" he asked her.

"Meeble?" was the reply.

"Yeah. Great. Thanks."

"Sir, please step away from the narrator. We know it's difficult, but it's all for your own good," came the voice from the other side of the door.

"Yes, but it's not really for her own good, is it?" Glorfindel retorted.

"Sir, that's not the point. You're almost free of her, we promise. She may have threatened you into doing this, but we assure you, she's had her powers removed. She can do nothing to you. Just step away."

"Is that true?" Glorfindel asked her. "They already performed the surgery?"

"Cheese," came the answer. Glorfindel correctly interpreted this as 'yes'.

"Well there goes Plan B," he muttered.

"Window!" M exclaimed.

"Yes, that's a window, M—" Glorfindel agreed absently, before realization struck. "Oh! That wasn't random. You think we should jump?"

"Swim!"

"You think we should jump and swim. It's a good a plan as any."

Moments later, the door burst open. The asylum guards rushed in to find the room empty and the window open, gauzy curtains waving in the breeze."

--

"Hi, yes, this is Sherly from the information desk at MIFT. Just calling to confirm that the surgery has indeed been performed, and all of M's Narrating abilities have been disabled. Yes, ah, one small problem, they seem to have, uh, escaped out a window. Yes, they… another character named Glorfindel who… no, that's not our problem, sir. Because both of them were released form our facility with two clean bills of heath and THAT, sir, makes it your problem. Thank you."

"Damn!" The Chief slammed his telephone down on his desk, effectively squashing his own fingers. "By Lucifer's Beard!" He dialed his secretary. "Bring in our special task force!" he barked into the receiver, and gently set it down. He waited a few tense, impatient moments before the door to his office burst open and in spilled Dublevey, Luxor, and Bailey in a tangle of limbs an bright yellow yarn.

"And the yarn is for…?"

"CATS!" cried Dublevey unhelpfully.

"Quiet you!" cried the Chief. "I don't need more trouble. There's been an escape, the narrator who was due to be executed and a canon character form the Tolkienverse."

"What! Who?" asked Bayley.

"Elf lord, name of Glorfindel. Do you know him?"

Bayley was flushed with excitement. "He's legendary sir! He's the only elf to have willingly been friends with a Narrator. He was committed to MIFT for it."

"I see. It's starting to make sense now. Word is he rescued her."

"Oh dear."

"That's putting it mildly. I want them found and arrested A.S.A.P.!"

"Yes sir, Chief!" Dublevey saluted. "I'm on it!"

"Good." There was an awkward pause. "You're dismissed," the Chief elaborated.

Nothing. Blank looks.

"GO!" The office emptied.

--

M had absolutely no idea what was going on. She knew she was free, which was good. And she knew Glorfindel was with her which was comforting. She suspected that things were about to go pear-shaped on them, but right now she was more concerned about the fact that she wanted to speak and that her tongue was NOT cooperating. She was also worried about how her brain kept going fuzzy every time she tried to think.

"Yurk!" cried Glorfindel. It wasn't that M was heavy, just that carrying her for such a long way through such a dark forest was tiring.

Glorfindel tripped over a rock and dropped her.

"…ow." M clambered to her feed, propping herself up on what appeared to be a furry brown rock… with teeth.

"Rawr!" The R.O.U.S leapt, knocking M to the ground and bearing down on Glorfindel.

"Gah!" Glorfindel grabbed a branch and swung it round, catching the Rodent on the nose. He swung it again and the Rodent went flying. It fell with a soft thud on a patch of white sand and immediately disappeared with a sucking sound.

"I thought you said they didn't exist!" M shouted.

"Eh?" said Glorfindel. "You are HEALED!"

"Eh?" said M. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

"What? Healed?"

"We must find the Man in Black!"

"Er…"

"Aaaaas yooooooou wiiiiiiiish!"

"Are you quoting?"

"Argh?"

"You are quoting, aren't you? Bugger."

"I'm sorry."

"At least you are coherent when you quote. We need to get your creativity back."

"It's guarded by sixty men!"

Editor's Note: So, M's creativity has been stripped, but there are still three Narrators who are up to something to get control of the Whirring Device. Glorfindel obviously has deep psychological problems, and now the Alliance Special Task Force (special in the head, obviously) is after him. Intrigued? There's more!


	5. Chapter Five: The Big Chase Scene

The Multiverse--  
A Glorfindel Book

_By Katt, Maggie, Eliza, and Sam_

**Chapter Five: The Big Chase Scene**

At a last desperate attempt to get the plotline on track, K requested an automatic update from Corridors Millennium Edition. Fast forward.

The remaining Narrators and the Special Task Force are both on the trail of Glorfindel and M. Through some deleted scenes involving close encounters with the Narrator's "allies", Glorfindel has decided that there is no one he can trust. He is proceeding alone, aside from M, to alliance headquarters where the Narrator Monitor is kept, in order so M can absorb its creativity, destroying the Narrators, but saving the girl.

Is it any wonder everyone is after them?

**--**

Indeed! M and Glorfindel had only just escaped from the clutches of the Pirates of the Caribbean universe (where M, in a dramatic and fantastically staged sword fight, rescued Glorfindel from the Dread Pirate Roberts actually, one Inago Montolla who followed them from the Princess Bride universe) and have been traveling in the simple, but very drafty hospital gowns they had escaped in. Glorfindel has been looking for a place to have a bit of a lie-down, as all of this hero business has been quite taxing on his nerves.

That, and the fact that M has been singing "A Pirates Life for me" for six hours straight.

M threw her self around Glorfindel's shoulders.

"And really _bad eggs_." She informed him.

"I'll get you some in the morning, but can we please just...give it a rest for a minute?" He settled down, M's soft murmuring of "Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!" lulling him into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams featuring beer and an indeterminate amount of apples, or possibly a bag of apples...and some kind of whirling device…?

Suddenly he was flung into the air. "Oh no," he thought. "Not again…" and landed flat on his back with a spectacular lack of grace.

"Ow! My ass!" cried Glorfindel.

"I'll get you another one!" declared M. "A _bigger_ one." She glanced around and spied a large gnarly oak, and pointed to it. "_That_ one."  
"Thank you, M. That means a lot to me."  
However, once he took a better look at the gnarly tree Glorfindel realized that it was gazing ponderously back at him.

"An …_ent?"_ he asked himself softly.  
"Burarum. An elf?" drawled the tree. "I have not seen one of your kind in these woods for oh, I can't remember. A long, long time, a long, long time indeed. And who is that there next to you, burarum?"  
"Er…" started Glorfindel.  
"Seems a bit off to me…" The Ent raised itself slowly to peer down at M, who hugged her knees and sang to herself.  
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…"  
"And who might you be, hm, little one?"  
"No---!" Glorfindel tried to silence M, but he was too late.  
"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves!"  
"I don't think I like to sound of that. I don't like the sound of that at all, burarum!" Said Treebeard.  
"Shouldn't you be quoting Tolkien by now?" snarled Glorfindel.

"We're beggars!" continued M, while fighting Glorfindel as he tried to shove a wad of sod into her yap. "And blighters, ne'er-do-well cads! We're devils! And black sheep! And _really bad eggs!_ Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!!!"  
"Sounds like orc mischief to me!!" rumbled Treebeard, who scooped up the both of them in his strong hands.  
"Ek!" squeaked Glorfindel in a very unmanly way, but he was far to busy having the life squeezed out of him (like some kind of lemon) to care much.  
"They come with fire, they come with axes… gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning!!"  
"Ay, but we are loved by our mommies and dads!" wailed M.  
"Destroyers and Usurpers! Curse them!"  
"Wait!!" gasped Glorfindel. "I'm an elf! Have we ever been known to befriend the enemies of forests? Ever?"  
"Maybe you have, and maybe you haven't. But the world out side the forest is none of my concern."

"Look!" said M suddenly. "There's smoke to the south!"  
Treebeard frowned unhappily. "There is always smoke rising from Isengard these days." Then, muttering to himself, "I think that I should take you to the White Wizard..."

"Ok," Glorfindel muttered to himself. "White wizard, smoke to the south… That would place us in book two, shortly before the assault on Isengard." Then to Treebeard:

"Alright, we'll go with you to see the white wizard!"

"Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards," said M, "for they are subtle and quick to anger."  
"Well, it's better than staying here! And I don't think that you've got an escape plan?"  
"Meeble?"  
And so off they went.

---

K, looking as angry as a baboon after a body wax, turned to E.  
"What the fuck? What the hell do you think that you are doing? Giving Glorfindel dreams of the device! We aren't supposed to be doing anything!"  
"Well, I don't like it!" said E. "Something is up. Everything is all out of balance, and I don't like what might come around the fill that balance."  
"The device needs three narrators to run, right?" said S. "And when M went down, here I am to take up the slack! Everything is as it should be."  
"I still don't like it. Conservation of matter and energy, remember? Energy can not be created or destroyed, right? Only converted into something else. So where did M's creative energy end up, huh?"  
There was a thoughtful pause.  
"I suggest we all get drunk and play ping pong."  
S and E looked at one another.  
"Yeah, ok."

K however, had a couple questions. "Computer, what is the probable objective of the Alliance Task Force?"  
++Retrieval of a palantir++  
"Of course," said K. "They will attempt to destroy our working Whirring Device with a similar source of power. We must make haste! E! S!"  
K began walking toward the room which had long since been painted on in huge block letters using red paint "DO NOT DISTURB (ever)!"  
"You guys! Stop violating each other! We have work to do!"  
"Shut up! Timeline changes are gradual, just like in Enterprise. We have plenty of time to go into the past!"

"Oh, fine," K said.  
But after several hours of waiting, she put on a Lord of the Rings late Second-Age outfit, and went to go find a working time portal.

--

"Wow, I seem to keep running into strange motley crews," said Eomer, sexily.

"Oh crap!" shouted M. "That's Karl Urban! We're in the movie universe!"  
"I don't understand." said Glorfindel.

"We set the time on our temporal wristbands to this point in time, but in the movie universe!"

"But that doesn't matter! The movies have already come out!"

"Yes, but we're in the past! That means it's probably the year 2000 right now... Alright then, modulate frequency to the second Lord of the Rings setting. It turns out our wristbands weren't messed up."

In a flash, Glorfindel and M vanished.  
"Uh...bye," said Treebeard and he walked back to the forest.

"OK..." said Eomer. "Let's go boys!"

"Excuse me!" yelled K.

"Oh...what's up?"

"I beg your pardon, but have you seen-- Karl Urban?!?"  
"Huh?"

"Oh!" And then K vanished too.

"What the fuck is going on?!"  
"That's odd," commented Peter Jackson. "Karl looks agitated in this scene. I don't remember filming that. Guess we'll do some re-shoots."

--

SNAP  
M and Glorfindel come out of the... the whatever is was they came through and find themselves in an empty bedroom in Imladris.  
Glorfindel looks around triumphantly, "Ha! Home, finally."  
M wanders over and stares out of the window, intoning in a doom laden voice, "We cannot linger here..."

Glorfindel ignores her, grabbing some clothes out of the wardrobe, "Here, put this on." He throws M a tunic, long enough on her to pass as a dress. She obeys and meanders over to the inside door, opening it just as he finishes dressing.  
"M! Where do you think you're going?"  
"Look for me when the sun rises in the east!"  
"Oh no you don't. We can't let anyone see us!"  
"What your elf eyes see?"  
"An ex-narrator who's about to get us both into trouble, come, we have to move on."  
M fiddles with her wristband. There is another flash and they are gone.

Seconds later:  
Glorfindel enters his room. "Hello? I could have sworn I heard voices..." He looks around, the room is empty, all is as it should be. "How strange."

K snapped into existence in Glorfindel's room.  
"Shit. Good thing I locked that inter-dimensional fishing line onto them." She noticed Glorfindel. "Oh great, and I have to clean up their messes. Look, you didn't see anything, especially not yourself with a little blond girl. This was all a asbestos induced hallucination. Check yourself into MIFT if you are still feeling uneasy."

As she snapped out of existence Glorfindel heard her mutter "I have got to get one of those MiB memory erasers."

--

SNAP  
"Hold it!"  
Glorfindel looked around. This was a dusty planet. People were pointing weapons at them so he raised his hands. M did the same. He saw crates, he saw some form of money, and he also saw...  
"M? I've never seen a cowboy before, but these look like the definition."  
"I'm a companion."  
"That's good to know."  
"How the HELL you two just pop outta nowhere?"  
"Um, we were just on... Alliance vacation."  
"Alliance!" One cowboy turned to the cowboy on the other side of the crate. "I thought you said Alliance never came out to this planet!"  
While they were arguing Glorfindel realized he didn't recognize any of their uniforms from the Inter-Dimensional Fanficion Alliance. "Whew boy," he whispered to M. "We must be in a REALLY backwater fanfiction. I don't think they are even part of the Alliance."  
"Hey you! Shut up or I'll shoot ya!"  
M took a breath and Glorfindel groaned. "You take advantage of this little girl and you will go to the special hell reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."  
"That's it, we're going." Glorfindel grabbed M's wrist and pressed any button.  
Glor and M were gone.  
A few seconds later K was there. "Oh no, not a pre-first-contact fic. Wait, I know this one. Ahem." She cleared her throat, oblivious to the guns pointed at her. "Do not be alarmed. The people you just saw are convicts being tracked by the Alliance. Do not let me interrupt your business. Forget that all three of us were here, as we will promptly forget you."  
As she went she left another brilliant exit line. "Let's just hope they stay still this time."

--

SNAP  
"Let's stop now." Glorfindel was fairly dizzy and a bit nauseated from all the inter-dimensional travel. "Where are we?"  
"I don't know, but there's an infinite number of penguins outside that want to talk to us about this script for Hamlet they've just worked out."  
"Ah, good." Glorfindel stood up. "This really is a barren place, isn't it?"  
"It's Magrathea!"  
"What?"  
"The legendary planet of Magrathea! In the early days, when the galaxy was young and full of money, many young millionaires couldn't find a planet that was just right for them. Maybe the days were an hour too long, or the sea was just the wrong shade of pink. And thus was Magrathea created; a place where you can design your own planet."  
"Wow, that was really very useful."  
"It was nothing really."  
"No, it was something. It shows an increase in your ability to pull abstract information out of your surroundings and put it to good use. It is a very encouraging sign."  
"Oh. Forget it then."  
"Um…"  
SNAP  
"There you two are! Is it possible for you to sit still for five minutes?"  
"Back off. You can't have her."  
"It's not easy being a cop!"  
"My opinion is that we should all sit down and discuss the situation."  
"The situation is I am taking her to be cured."  
"DICED!"  
"She can't be cured. Not in that way."  
"You three are the ones who—"  
WHIRRR  
A rip opened in the air near them and Bayley, Dublevey, Elizabeth, and Luxor all stepped out.  
"We got you now!" cried Dublevey. "TWO jumps to the same place were easier to track! That was your fatal flaw!"  
Dublevey realized that everyone else was staring in silence. She stared. She recoiled.  
K broke the silence first. She yelled at her wrist communicator. "S! E! Get your asses down here now or I will personally drag you out of bed by the genitals!"  
A moment later the last two jumped to the planet.  
"Yeah, yeah. What's the big cri—sis…"  
They stared for a bit more. Not even M spoke.  
Glorfindel suddenly looked behind him. "Where's my evil twin?"  
The ensuing yelling was chaos.  
"My evil twin is a Narrator?"  
"Oh, we already took care of YOUR evil twin."  
"Please don't mention Glordifle."  
"My evil twin is an Alliance?"  
"What writer messed this thing up."  
"MY WHITE MICE!"  
The company stopped to look at M.  
"Look, all of you," said K. "This is the most powerful narrator. Only she knows what's going on. We have to set aside our differences and work together to help her communicate."  
Bayley scoffed. "Cliché."  
"Oh bloody hell!"

Editor's Note: Yes indeed, the Alliance Special Task Force and the Narrators are evil twins. Elizabeth is equal to M, Bayley is equal to S, Dublevey is equal to E, and Luxor is equal to K. There is more somewhere, but it may have been lost to the depths of time. Sorry.


End file.
